Spending the necessary time with her while getting his tattoo would be the best way to get answers: Does she have friends? Is she affiliated with any gangs? Did Bogey use her for his illegal activities?
Cameron sighed. He couldn’t exactly ask her these questions out loud. Luckily, he had a personality most people were drawn to, and often, people he barely knew told him their secrets or problems. He hoped Willow was one of those people.
His phone dinged as he rubbed the weariness from his eyes. Willow had texted him, telling him the sketch would be finished by four and that he could come in any time after that.
CAMERON: I will be there around six. What can I bring you for dinner?
WILLOW: You don’t have to bring me dinner.
CAMERON: A promise is a promise. If you don’t tell me what you like, I’ll bring something disgusting.
WILLOW: Fine. I like pepperoni on my pizza.
CAMERON: One large pepperoni coming up! Be there at six.
WILLOW: See you then.
Cameron smiled. He liked her, more than he should after only a twenty-minute conversation. He sincerely hoped she was as innocent as she seemed.
*****
Willow smiled at his texts, though she chided herself for it and erased it from her face. But not before Bogey saw it.
“What are you grinning about?” he asked in his gruff voice.
“Nothing,” Willow answered too quickly, and he grunted.
“Did the surfer dude text?”
Willow eyed him, wishing she hadn’t mentioned Cameron. “Yes. He’s bringing a pizza to eat while we discuss his tattoo.”
“You finished the sketch?” Bogey asked, looking up from his desk where he was sketching a tattoo for one of his buddies.
“I did. Want to see?” she asked excitedly. She loved showing off her work to anybody who would look at it. She carried over the sketch pad and opened it. Rather than working on it today, she’d spent two hours on it after going home when she should have been working on her paper. But she’d been so excited about such a complicated piece she couldn’t concentrate on her paper.
Bogey winked at her, his smile hiding under his beard, and glanced down at the sketch. He whistled through his teeth as he studied it, turning it so he could look at it from different angles. “This is excellent work, and I think you’ll be able to transfer it easily onto skin, depending on the guy’s skin tone.”
Willow recalled Cameron’s skin under and around his Poseidon tattoo. “He’s tanned, and toned,” she added with an eyebrow wiggle that made him chuckle. “But his Poseidon tattoo looked great against the background. Will you be here at six?”
He handed her the sketch pad and shrugged, glancing at the sketch he was working on. Willow followed his eyes and tilted her head to look at it. He was creating a skull tattoo for a pal of his, a guy he rode bikes with and who came into the parlor occasionally to chat. The skull faced out, eyes forward, and was detailed with an indescribable pattern of lines. In the mouth was the green stem of a large, blood red rose, the only part of the tattoo with color other than black or white. He’d finished the bottom half, mouth and nose areas, and had an outline of the eyes, but the pattern hadn’t been added to the top yet.
“I might be if I haven’t finished this,” he grumbled in answer to her question.
“It’s really good,” Willow complimented.
He looked up at her and said, “Yours is good, too. If the guy doesn’t like it, he’s an idiot.”
“I don’t think he’s an idiot.” She laughed.
“Apparently, you think he’s hot,” he murmured as he returned to his sketch.
“Whatever.” Willow smiled, thinking of the texts that read like a couple’s. “If you do leave, I’ll ask him if I can take a picture of his Poseidon. I’m telling you, the work is outstanding.”
“And your goal is to make your work better,” he said gruffly, pointing his pencil at her.
“Challenge accepted, sir,” she returned, saluting him smartly.
“Smart ass,” he grumbled at her.
“Every day of my life,” she called as the bell on the front door tinkled. She hurried forward and smiled at a pair of women who looked about ten years older than her. “Hello, ladies. How may I help you?”
One of them waltzed up to the desk, a smile on her face. “I want a tattoo on my foot. I found one on Pinterest that I love. Can you do that?”
“I can look at the picture and see,” Willow told her, cringing slightly inside. Suburban housewives always wanted cutesy things they’d found on Pinterest or Facebook. Rarely did she get to do anything original like Cameron’s.
The woman smiled at her and handed over her phone. Willow looked at the screen and winced inwardly again. The tattoo was cute, though not incredibly unique. A butterfly in mid-flight was in the middle of two letters with ribbons twined around all the images.
“The initials I want to use are C and J,” she told Willow, a big grin on her face. “My children.”
“That’s sweet,” Willow said with a smile. She’d learned the tone to adopt with women like her, even if she thought their idea for a tattoo was silly. This one, though, she kind of liked, except for one thing. “Okay, so, I’m not trying to discourage you in any way, but I have to ask one question.”
“Sure,” the woman said uncertainly, glancing at her friend for support.
“Are you planning to have more children?” The woman’s brow furrowed, and Willow continued before she got offended. “Because if you do, this tattoo won’t be easy to add to.”
The woman nodded, an understanding smile on her face. She waved her hand, dismissing Willow’s concern. “Don’t worry about that, honey. My husband got snipped after number two.”
Her friend laughed, and Willow joined her. Shaking her head, she said, “Well, okay then. Give me about fifteen minutes to create a sketch to make sure we’re on the same page. If you like it, we’ll get you going.”
“Do you want me to text you the picture?”
“Yes, that would be easiest,” Willow answered, reciting her number. After receiving it, she asked, “Do you want the same colors as on the picture?”
“I’d like the butterfly to be a bright blue instead of yellow. The letters and ribbons can be black like the picture.”
“I can do that,” Willow answered with a smile. “Give me a few.”
The women wandered over to the posters with every tattoo imaginable and began going through them, making remarks and giggling. When Willow turned to go to her drawing desk, Bogey glanced up and rolled his eyes. She giggled to herself. The man refused to work on women who weren’t hardcore, bad ass gals with sleeves or tattoos covering their backs. The suburban housewives were hers.
Willow sketched out the drawing quickly, tiring of their insipid giggles and almost rude remarks about why someone would want this or that on their bodies forever. What hypocrites, she thought. The woman was getting a permanent tattoo inked on her body but judged others for doing the same. Willow hoped she wouldn’t freak out because it hurt too much. Or wouldn’t come back after her husband saw it, hated it, wanting to know if she could have it removed. That had happened more than once in her five years in the business.
“Here’s the sketch,” Willow called to them, interrupting their chatter. “What do you think?”
“I love it!” she squealed and turned to her friend. “What do you think?”
“It’s great! Your kids will think you’re the coolest mom ever,” her friend said with a smile and toss of her hair.
“How much?” she asked. Willow quoted her a price, the standard for black with one color and the size. “Sounds reasonable to me. Let’s do it!”
Willow led them back, reminding herself that her work required patience, not just with getting the art right, but with some of the idiots she had to tattoo. The woman seemed like a nice lady, just a little spoiled, and again, Willow hoped she wouldn’t change her mind in a couple of days.
Chapte
r 3
Willow sat up to stretch her back before putting the final touches on the suburban mom’s tattoo, which she had sat through like a champion, without a flinch. After stretching, she smiled at the woman before continuing. “You’re doing great. I’m almost finished.”
“Honey, if I can give birth to a ten pounder, I can get a tattoo,” she scoffed, waving her hand.
“You know,” Willow commented with a smirk, “I’ve given tattoos to grown ass men who couldn’t handle it. Backed out with only a partial tat.”
The pair of friends giggled, and the one in her chair rolled her eyes. “Pussy,” she had whispered, covering her mouth as if someone might hear her. Her friend had gasped and slapped her gently on the shoulder.
“That is exactly the word I kept thinking,” Willow chuckled. After thirty more seconds of the buzzing needle on the woman’s skin, Willow released the trigger and sat back. “All done. What do you think?”
The woman looked at it, a big grin on her face. “I love it! My kids are going to flip!”
“Your husband, too,” her friend quipped, winking at Willow, who didn’t understand the gesture.
“Whatever. He doesn’t care,” the woman said, turning her ankle so she could see it. She handed her friend her phone. “Take a picture.” Her friend took the picture and handed her back the phone. “I love it,” she said again as she enlarged the picture.
After explaining proper tattoo care, Willow accepted the cash from her customer, smiling when she counted an extra twenty for a tip. “Thanks for choosing Bogey’s. Come back for all your tattoo and piercing needs.”
The women cackled and waved as they left, and Bogey snorted behind her. “She’ll be the coolest mom at the PTA meeting tonight.”
Willow looked at him. “Don’t be a butthead. We can’t all be badasses like you, Bogey.”
“That is true,” he mused, scratching his beard thoughtfully. “Speaking of badass, your dude should be here soon.”
“Are you waiting so you can see his tattoo?”
“Yes. Very interested in his Poseidon after listening to you. Did he say why he chose Bogey’s?”
Willow laughed, remembering the conversation she and Cameron had shared about Bogey. “He read the reviews online. I told him you were better, and he said he’d decide after he saw the sketch.”
“Girl, with that drawing, you’re set. Can he afford it?”
“I didn’t quote him the price yet,” Willow said, scrunching up her nose. “He had on expensive clothes, so probably. How much would you charge for this?”
He glanced at the sketch when she gestured at it. He tilted his head, his mouth moving as he calculated, a habit he had that Willow had noticed her first week working for him. “That’s a lot of color and a lot of detail. At least five, maybe seven hours of work over several days.” He looked up at her, eyebrows raised. “What do you think?”
In the last several months, he asked her questions about business matters, not just tattoos. He was well aware of her goal of owning her own parlor, and he encouraged her to follow that dream, even though right after the encouragement, he would mutter about losing a good artist. Willow debated internally, hours, details, and supplies needed for the tattoo he wanted.
After another moment, she murmured, “Four fifty?”
Bogey winked and nodded his head slowly. “Ah, you are ready to go out into the world on your own.”
Willow scrunched her nose again, laughing quietly. “Have to graduate first so I can save money.”
“I can slide you a loan, if you want,” he offered. He shrugged when her eyes widened in surprise. “It’s your dream. You work hard, you deserve it.”
Willow stared at him for another moment before she wrapped her arms around his scruffy neck. The man had been like a father to her for the last five years, and she loved him for treating her like a daughter. He’d never said as much, but she was sure he loved her too.
“Thank you for the offer. I need to graduate first,” she told him with her arms around him.
Uncomfortably, he patted her back and pushed her away. Gruffly, he said, “Yeah, well, like I said, you deserve it. When you graduate, we can talk about it again.”
Willow cleared her throat and opened her mouth to speak, but the front door chime tinkled, interrupting them. They glanced around, and Willow smiled hugely when she saw Cameron walking in with a large pizza box balanced on his hand. He looked as good as she remembered. His blonde hair was windblown as if he’d just come out of the ocean, and the tank top, shorts, and boat shoes perfectly displayed a body she couldn’t wait to get her hands on.
She moved to the front counter, not a speck of the nervousness she felt apparent. “Well, well. Right on time.”
“I’m no slacker,” Cameron teased. “Regardless of whatever idea my outfit may give you.”
Willow laughed. “Surfer boy with a sassy mouth. Interesting.”
Cameron tilted his head, a small smile on his face. “Sassy. I’ve never been called that before.”
“Not to your face,” she pointed out, winking at him flirtatiously. Bogey cleared his throat, drawing her attention, and she jerked away from the counter where she’d leaned her elbow, chin in hand. “Oh, um, Cameron, this is Bogey, my boss. Bogey, Cameron.”
The two shook hands, and Bogey was obviously sizing him up. He studied his chest for an awkward amount of time, which Willow noticed, before he spoke. “So, I hear you have a tattoo that’s a real work of art.”
*****
Bogey’s voice was deceptively friendly, though Willow didn’t seem to notice. Cameron smiled at him, his amiable demeanor in place, though he too had noticed Bogey’s study of his chest. Looking for a wire, I’m sure, he thought, which he hid behind a happy mask.
“Willow tells me it’s some of the best work she’s ever seen,” Cameron replied.
Bogey nodded his head. “Mind if I take a look?” he asked when Cameron didn’t move to lift his shirt.
“Oh, of course,” Cameron chuckled self-deprecatingly. He lifted his shirt, his eyes shifting to Willow, who looked beautiful. She wore a tank top from an Aerosmith concert, and he wondered if she’d actually gone or bought it in a shop. Her breasts, large and perky, were hard not to look at, but her eyes were a perfect diversion. He smiled into them as he lifted his shirt and watched as her breath caught. “Like what you see, Willow?”
“You’re such a douche,” she accused playfully. She didn’t look up into his eyes, only stared at his tattoo. “Look at this detail, Bogey. The waves move with his breaths, which I’m sure is a purposeful design.” She traced her fingers along the line of waves, then over Poseidon’s body and face.
Cameron’s dick twitched in response, and he forced himself to focus on their conversation rather than the sensations her fingers caressing his side were causing. He cleared his throat as he listened to them, concentrating on her voice more than Bogey’s. It had a melodious sound, as if at any moment she could burst into song and sound like a Disney princess. I bet she’d hate that comparison, he thought with a chuckle.
Willow straightened and looked at him. “What’s so funny?”
“Um, nothing. Just a thought running through my mind,” Cameron said, shaking his head. He glanced at Bogey, who had also straightened and was staring at him suspiciously.
“You hear voices?” Willow joked. She hadn’t noticed Bogey’s attention on him or the tension in the room.
“Of course, but I only listen to the good ones.” He laughed, winking at her. Bogey looked from Cameron to Willow, frowning, but he didn’t speak. Cameron turned his smile on him. “What do you think about the tattoo?”
Bogey’s eyes narrowed, but his lips lifted in a semblance of a smile. He doesn’t like me, but he doesn’t know why, Cameron thought as he waited patiently for an answer. A red flag waved in his mind. Bogey was not an innocent tattoo parlor owner/artist; Cameron would bet on it, but he couldn’t prove it. Yet.
“Willow said it was good work, and
it is,” Bogey answered quietly as he stared at him.
Cameron sensed he was supposed to cower and break eye contact, but he couldn’t bring himself to follow that rule. He maintained the eye contact for several seconds before speaking. “Willow has a good eye.”
Willow looked from one man to the other, frowning, her brow furrowed. Her expression was clear; she didn’t understand why the two men were being so antagonistic with each other. She slapped her hand down on the counter, and interjected, “Cameron, would you like to see the sketch?”
Both men looked at her, and Cameron regained his composure as if nothing had happened. “Yes, please.” He smiled at her, trying to ease her concerns.
With a glance at first one, then the other man, she turned and walked to her drawing table. Cameron looked at Bogey, who stared at his watch. “I have to go, Willow. Before I do, I need to talk to you.” He looked at Cameron. “Privately.”
Willow shot him a strange look before schooling her expression with a smile for Cameron. She held out the sketch book so he could take it. “I’ll be right back so we can talk about it.”
He waved it at her. “I’ll study it like I have a test.” He watched her follow her boss to the back of the shop, his eyes on her ass. He shook his head, reminding himself that while, yes, he was taking care of personal business, he was also on a job. His eyes moved down to the sketch, and his mouth fell open.
The drawing was better, more detailed than the picture he’d shown her of what he wanted across his shoulder blades. The blues, grays, and whites of the sea, the crashing waves, were mesmerizing, and he felt as if he were watching the turbulent ocean release its anger. If she could transfer this from paper to his skin, he’d pay her any amount of money to have it done.
*****
Willow followed Bogey to the storeroom and watched him as he closed the door and shut it. He turned to face her with an expression she’d never seen.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, crossing her arms in front of her. His behavior was making her nervous.
“Nothing’s wrong, just got a bad feeling about the guy,” Bogey answered, the frown on his face deepening as he spoke.
Undercover Lover (BWWM Romance Book 1) Page 3
